Why Chu GaEul is the kindergarten teacher and So YiJeong is not
by xxPeepsxx
Summary: So YiJeong dazzles the women, Chu GaEul controls the kids. While So YiJeong has the looks and the money, in the kindergarten, he's just a nobody. Two Shot
1. Chapter 1

A hand on the doorknob, the other behind his back, So YiJeong smoothly and surely opened the glass-paned door as the hinges squeaked from the exertion. Flashing his mega-watt smile, ready to disarm any other being that shared the land he walked upon, he entered the room, leaving the delightful scent of spring outdoors and entering the homey confines of approximately twenty people. A unique and distinct scent wafted to his nose, providing confirmation to his whereabouts.

As he stood before the group, gleaming at the seemingly infinitely shorter beings, he was ready to dazzle and welcome their awe.

"Hey! It's Darth Vader!"

What?! YiJeong whipped around to find the source of that senseless remark. Ok, so the last time he came, he was wearing all black, but could you blame a man for trying to look as cool as he could for a woman he had not even glanced at in four years? Plus, back then, black was the new orange, and he was sure that on him, the colour would have proven flattering and seemingly even more masculine, if ever possible**. **It would make his smiles more enchanting and the twinkle in his eyes brighter, not make him look anything at all like that hand-chopping, backstabbing, whiffle-waffle father of Luke.

Also, he was not wearing all-black today! These days, blue was the new black and So YiJeong was sure that he was keeping up to the trends. He wasn't a hard-core fashionista but being a member of the upper rungs of society, he had to always look sharp and snazzy. Of course, plus that whole thing about So YiJeong being So YiJeong, he had to look fabulous for the ladies too. The world acknowledged (ok, so maybe it's just South Korea but that was where he spent most of his time, so it's basically the same for him) ladies' man always has to look like Adonis to please them. He believed that it was his life-long obligation after all, because he believed that those with talents have to find them, hone them and use them to help others, and he was just being a praise-worthy member of society. Looking down, YiJeong was prepared to rebut that criminal.

He muttered a curse. He was wearing all black. Someday, he would have to fire his stylist. She wasn't performing well these days. He wondered how he could charm her into resigning.

"Sir, what is 'shit'?" someone had asked loudly.

What? That was not a word to be known to people in this room! (Well, of course So YiJeong is the exception, but then again, he always is.)

Unbeknownst to him, attracted by the bag he hid behind his back, a certain young boy had been sidling up to him and had heard him curse. Now staring back at him with saucer-large eyes and a deceiving (So YiJeong was very sure) face of innocence, head cocked to one side in that universal expression of curiosity, the young boy looked up at him expectantly.

"Hey, no, boy-" he had stuttered before being rudely interrupted.

"I know! I know!" another voice in the crowed came up.

So YiJeong looked up, slightly shocked. Behind a short round table, a girl with the cutest pigtails sticking out of both sides of her head stood up (relatively) tall and proud, as if she had just worked her way through gruelling competitions and earned a gold medal at the Olympics. What came out of her mouth next was not very cute at all.

"Shit means poop! I heard Appa say that when we were walking in the park with Petty yesterday and he forgot to bring a plastic bag to clean up her poop and then he went "Shit!" and then I asked what that is and he said that it meant that Petty pooped which also meant that she shit and so poop is shit!"

Not knowing how to answer to that lengthy and detailed explanation, So YiJeong just gaped. He looked around for a certain someone who was supposed to be in charge of the class to save him but he couldn't find her, not even a shadow. Murmurs of wonder sprang up across the room and YiJeong winced each time the profanity came out of each supposedly innocent little angel, now all tainted by his momentary carelessness. A childish voice broke his reverie.

"But sir, I have not shit."

Turning around, sticking his derriere out and pulling his pants down, the young child before him pointed and said, "See, it's clean."

Aware that he had to do damage-control fast, So YiJeong yanked up the toddler's pants and carried him single-handedly to the rest of the class.

"No, no, no, kid, don't do that. That's rude," he said, then turned to announce to the class. "And you shouldn't say that word also. It's a bad word."

"Shit?"

"Don't say that!"

"Why?" someone had piped up.

"Because I said so."

"But then I can say poop, so why can't I say shit?"

"Because then you will be a naughty boy and Santa Claus will not like you and you won't get any presents this Christmas and your Omma and Appa will dislike you and then you will have no food to eat and they will also throw you out and then you will have no bed to sleep on," he rattled off, bullet fast.

So YiJeong was irritated. Annoyed, to say the least. What a handful lot!

Stunned, the class full of toddlers stayed rooted to the ground, all of them looking his way, eyes as wide as saucers, fear written in each of them, their tiny pink mouths trembling. A feeling of dread hit YiJeong like a fierce wave hurtling itself at shore. He saw each and every one of those tiny little people, freezing motionless in his or her spot, as similar red hues crept up their chubby little cheeks. Their eyes began to water as confirmation of the inevitable that was to come.

"Oh come on," YiJeong breathed, just as the first of them erupted into a loud bawl. Like a highly infectious disease, with the speed and surety of falling dominos, another one wailed too, and then another one. One by one, the toddlers began to cry and scream at the top of their lungs, until the entire room was engulfed by the passionate roar of a conductor-less orchestra, united and harmonised by fear and sadness.

"Come on, kid, don't cry," So YiJeong begged. He patted those closer to him and cooed, telling them "Hey, I was just joking", "Aw, no, kid, Santa Claus knows that you're a good kid" and "Your Omma still loves you!".

While lady luck bestowed upon him a brilliant intelligence, wealth, good looks and even a talent in pottery great enough to awe others, she did not provide him with any more luck to deal with children. Hastily, YiJeong pulled out the bag that he had been hiding behind him earlier and from it pulled out several stuffed figurines definitely instantly recognisable by children.

"Hey, hey, look, it's Pororo!" he sang and wiggled the toy in front a child. The child and those around him stopped screaming and looked at the toy. Smiling uncertainly at the children who were red in the face, shuddering and gasping for air, cheeks tear-stained and mucus flowing freely down their noses, So YiJeong thought that he had finally lucked out.

As if.

For just a moment, the child and his friends were enraptured by the toy YiJeong was waving around in front of them, until they looked back up at YiJeong, scrunched up their tiny little face and led the entire orchestra into another number.

So YiJeong buried his face in his hands, leaving Pororo to motionlessly conduct the twenty people musical group. He wanted to cry. He wanted to be like them and cry, cry all his frustrations out, wail like he hadn't in almost fifteen years.

Then the door opened, so fast that the hinges didn't even have time to squeak as his holy saviour stormed into the room, demanding the reason to all the madness happening in her class.

"Why? What happened?"

Standing at the doorway, door wide open and worried, she scanned her class of twenty children. Everywhere she looked, mouths were wide opened, producing some high pitched shrilling, and children were red in the face, tears rolling down their cheeks like running taps. Some were crying so hard, it looked like they would faint from the effort.

As she cast her eyes downwards to the black-cladded figure right in front of her, what happened was slumped over a small table, head buried in his arms as his hands ran through his hair.

"So YiJeong, why are you here and what did you do to my class?!"

"GaEul ah…"

So YiJeong turned his head to look at his saviour and angel, puppy-eyed and evidently tortured, and was predictably greeted with an accusation about his conduct before her class.

"Teacher!"

"Aigo, our KyungJoo yah, don't cry honey," GaEul cooed as she rushed to the child who had called for her. One by one, (like copycats, YiJeong thought) each and every child was calling and sobbing for her.

Lifting the sobbing girl onto her lap, GaEul hugged and cuddled KyungJoo, then wrapped another arm around another child and patted him. She pulled another child towards her and kissed him on the forehead, to another, she whispered in his ear. Reassured by their teacher's presence, the cries slowly became sniffles as each child tottered to her, wanting her comfort and affectionate hugs and kisses.

Staring dumbfounded, So YiJeong was amazed at the magic Chu GaEul could do that he couldn't. One by one, they succumbed to her coos and kisses, like willing, hypnotised followers. Reflecting, So YiJeong realised that it was not very different to the magic he himself worked on women sometimes, although his powers were sort of faltering these days. He made a mental note to brush up on his powers, even if he didn't actually have that many prey to work his magic on now.

Also, why was she calling them "Hon", "Darling", "Baby" and even "Precious"? Those should only have been reserved for him!

"Aigoo, our MinHyeok-ie, why are you crying," GaEul asked a child, warm and motherly, as she wiped the tears on his face with her thumbs.

"Seonsaeng-nim, that bad man said that Santa Claus won't give me a present!"

MinHyeok pointed accusingly at So YiJeong. So YiJeong scrunched up his face in disapproval. _Hey, it was a joke! A joke! Why are these children so serious?_

"What? Why?"

"And he said that Omma and Appa will hate me and will throw me out of home," a girl reported through sniffles.

"No, hon, that won't happen. Remember when I told you about how hard your parents work for you? You're their darling baby, hon."

"He said that if I said shit then I would have no food to eat."

Hold up.

WHAAAT?

So YiJeong froze. That darn boy just threw him under the Chu GaEul bus!

Looking up at the man-child peeking from behind his fingers, GaEul hissed: "I will get you for this!"

He flinched.

"JinWoo yah, don't say that word, it's rude."

"Oh no, teacher, I said that word and now Omma and Appa will hate me!" JinWoo fretted, ready to cry another river.

"No, honey, come here."

As JinWoo crawled into GaEul's embrace, she willed highly poisonous daggers to fly over the top of his head, aimed at the man named So YiJeong.

So YiJeong turned away, not wanting to meet those accusing midnight black. 

"Hey it's Pororo!" an oddly chipper child exclaimed.

Cheeks not tear stained, not red, and with no sign of wet flowing mucus anywhere, a happy little boy tottered towards the toys and plopped himself right next to the bewildered (but nevertheless whose heart had done a small leap for someone had recognised his efforts**)** man who had before him a bag full of stuffed toys shaped in the form of characters from the widely popular children's cartoon series Pororo.

"CheonNi-yah, Pororo da!" the ecstatic youngster waved an aviator goggles clad penguin who would otherwise never be able to fly high above his head and smiling as brightly as a thousand light bulbs, willing his friend to come over and join the fun.

CheonNi looked at the happy boy, hiccupping and choking back a few sobs while beginning to stand, appearing to join his friend but then shot a wary look at YiJeong.

"Hey, kids, these are all for you!" YiJeong made wide sweeping motions with his arms, gesturing to the bag of toys.

"Ahjusshi, really?" the boy sitting right beside him asked, excited, a bright sparkle lit up his eyes.

"Yeah dude," YiJeong replied.

"Hey it's all ours!" the exhilarated boy bounced on the floor, not too unlike Tigger from Winnie the Pooh.

So YiJeong grabbed hold of two toys, Crong and Loopy, twisting his wrists clockwise and anti-clockwise in an attempt to appeal the toys to the wary children.

With one look at their teacher who encouraged them to go have fun, soon, all of them were rushing to the table, claiming for each of themselves their favourite character.

Chu GaEul got up from where she was seating, smiling in relief. She stalked towards the unexpected troublemaker who had backed off from his bag of gifts, giving the children more space to clamour for their favourite toy.

From cries to smiles and laughter. All that only took fifteen minutes and So YiJeong had wondered why he couldn't understand children.

And then he was rudely dragged outside.

Right in front of him, Mrs So-Chu GaEul was looking at him, lips pursed, arms crossed, foot tapping, ready and waiting for his great explanation.

YiJeong laughed uncomfortably and moved one step back, creating a greater distance between them in case he needed to run. Yeah, he was sort of guilty, but he wasn't going to stand there and take her beating (even if harmless) like a fool. He raised his hands up in that international signature move signalling surrender and leniency.

"Hey, hey, Mrs So, I can explain."

"Uh huh, please do explain how and why you introduced a cuss word to my entire class of five year olds and how you made them all cry, all in ten minutes. I send one child to get some first aid and this happens. Also, please explain what you are doing here aside from wrecking havoc and how you got the passwords to enter this kindergarten," Chu GaEul demanded.

Then a flicker of realisation passed through her eyes. "Oh hell, no, So YiJeong, you did not just bribe The Principal for the password, did you?"

YiJeong's eyes widened at her accusation, his reacting damning while he wondered how she got so smart.

GaEul gasped.

"So YiJeong, SERIOUSLY?"

"Hey, hey, Mrs So, you don't want to be killing your own husband here!"

So YiJeong backtracked faster and faster with each footstep as Chu GaEul marched towards him, ready for some blood.

"Oh, kill you? I wasn't going to, but I guess I should, huh, to free myself from this man-child who's supposed to be my husband**!**"

"GaEul, darling, come on, think of all those good times! And murder is an offence worthy of capital punishment!"

But Chu GaEul was not deterred as she marched even faster, arms held akimbo. So YiJeong began sprinting down the hallway, his wife hot on his heels.

"You tell me, how am I supposed to explain what you taught them today to their parents?"

"I can help you charm their mothers, if it's any help."

"SO YIJEONG! COME BACK HERE AND DIE!"

"Hey teacher, I brought Pororo!"

"Pororo, my foot!"


	2. Chapter 2

"Teacher, why do you look so messed up?"

"Huh? Oh Joongie ah, teacher was teaching this bad man a lesson," GaEul replied, smoothing some unruly strands of hair away from her face. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

Right beside her, So YiJeong was smirking, looking a bit beat-up, but still feeling terribly smug, proud of himself for his last comeback.

Chu GaEul gave him a little glare, which only served to make that smirk on his face bigger… until he looked down upon the little people and saw that many were clutching their new toys close to their chests, looking at him all wary and suspicious, although not as hostile as they had been during that whole fiasco that happened before they got new toys.

GaEul nudged him in the ribs, and mouthed something.

Letting out a little sigh, and cringing a little inwardly, So YiJeong addressed the class. He prayed that he wouldn't sound so awkward and that the apology would work.

"Hey kids, I'm sorry about what I said earlier," he started, as GaEul comfortingly patted the small of his back. The brows on some of the children knotted together, as the noses on those same children scrunched up. It was as though, they were trying to judge YiJeong and the sincerity of his apology with all their five years' worth of experience. Could they trust him? Should they not?

"Santa Claus will still send you presents and your Omma and Appa will still love you, forever and ever. This… (YiJeong paused a little to find the right word)… hyung, was just frustrated, so he said bad things. I am very sorry. But you still shouldn't say that word."

Some children pouted, deep in concentration.

"So class, can we forgive him?" GaEul asked, clapping her hands together as though she was getting ready to pray. "You know, sometimes we get angry and you feel this bubbling thing rising in your tummy and then sometimes you do the wrong thing, right?"

A few of the kids nodded their head, some more enthusiastically, some still unsure, but obviously loosening up, as YiJeong felt the constricting invisible claw that had taken hold of his heart release its iron grip.

"He's already apologised, so we can forgive him right?"

"Yes, teacher!" the youngsters chorused, most clutching their new toys happily. YiJeong wasn't sure if his presents of Pororo plushies had played a factor in their final decision, of if they were just that kind hearted and simple. However, he was relieved.

"And when someone gives you something, there's something that you need to tell him, right?" GaEul continued in that saccharine sweet voice. Yijeong was not sure if he would have liked it if she had used it on him. Most of the times she did, she was so condescending and sarcastic, or was teasing him ruthlessly, that he had learned to hate that tone but this time, there was this warmth that, somehow, melded with each word spoken. It was a tone that he had not heard used in a long, long time, perhaps ever since his mother was struck insane with insecurity. That voice, that tone, felt… nice.

"Thank you ahjusshi!" the little angels chorused again, now all smiles.

A warm feeling swept through his entire being, a sort of warmth that he only felt when he was with GaEul or the rest of the F4; the sort of warmth that came with raw, pure sincerity and honesty. It was the kind that demolished emotional walls. It made him happy and relaxed. He didn't have to question their intent or suspect their sincerity. The children wore their hearts on their sleeves, bravely and boldly.

Then GaEul had to indecently undercut the moment by sniggering.

So YiJeong looked at her, bewildered and a little offended, until the reason hit him like a sack of potatoes.

"Kids! I'm not that old!"

"But sir, you look like an ahjusshi more than like my hyung," a little boy, whom YiJeong had come to recognise as Joongie piped up.

30 years old. So YiJeong was only thirty! He was hardly of the age to join the legions of uncles! And he was So. Yi. Jeong! So YiJeong! The ladies' man! The epitome of attraction and youthful vitality!

Before he could retort, GaEul was already among the little people, commanding them left, right and centre, prepping them up for something and the children were already bombarding her with other questions, such as the identity of the mystery spring Santa.

"Ah, that ahjusshi?" GaEul asked without much thought, emphasising on the one word that her husband hated to be related to. YiJeong stood there at the doorway, stewing in indignity.

"That ahjusshi is teacher's husband."

"Ah, teacher's soul-mate that teacher said she loved sooooooo much and was going to live together with for a long, long time? Oop-"

So YiJeong looked on as GaEul clapped a hand over her ward's mouth. He cocked his head slightly and grinned, the inner devil in him pleased at the new piece of tease-worthy information. Chu GaEul was looking evidently bashful and was whispering something to the kid, resolutely not even glancing at her husband at all. If she did, she would have seen that mischievous glint in his eyes and perhaps she would have sighed in exasperation, knowing that she would not be living that down for a long, long time.

All children, regardless of the era which they were born in or their environment in which they grew up, for that short, blissful period of innocence, are brutally truthful.

Well, 'brutally' to Chu GaEul but 'wonderfully' to So YiJeong.

"So, teacher who loves me sooooooo much," YiJeong grinned, having parked himself right next to GaEul who was busy helping a child put on his coat. GaEul glared at him and made a face while the other little girls giggled. "What are we doing now?"

GaEul slightly pushed him aside before answering.

"We are now getting ready for our afternoon walk," she sniffed, and then eyed him up and down. "And if this Mr So wants to come along, he has to help me get all the children ready."

"Aye, aye, teach!" So YiJeong saluted in jest.

"Hey kids! All of you wear your coats now. Those who have short arms and can't manage, come to me!" YiJeong hollered.

"So YiJeong!" GaEul reprimanded. "What are you doing?"

"What, I'm just promoting independence here," YiJeong replied nonchalantly. "You don't really expect me to help ALL of them wear their coats right? Hey, I'm not going to always there at their service."

While a child slipped an arm into the long sleeve of his coat, YiJeong held the other side of the coat up by pinching his thumb and index finger together, the piece of cloth in between.

"For your information, they know how to wear their own coats," GaEul retorted, miffed.

"Then why am I helping them wear their coats again?" YiJeong asked, while the child in front of him fumbled over his own buttons.

"Because they aren't experts yet!" GaEul hissed.

"Hey kid, you can do it," YiJeong said to the child in front of him. Then he turned to GaEul, pointing at the busy child at the same time. "And practice makes perfect, so this is practice time."

Chu GaEul looked like she swallowed something bitter. Her eyes were hostile and the side of her mouth was twitching uncontrollably. How could anyone argue with that? She could not even say "but we have no time!" because, one, that was not true, and two, kindergarten was supposed to teach children about being independent anyway, regardless of the time.

GaEul harrumphed, and helped another boy fix the Y-shaped channel of the zipper on his coat. Once done, the boy promptly zipped himself up.

"Hey kid, you did great!" YiJeong complemented the boy still in front of him. YiJeong patted the boy's coat and smoothed the creases at the boy's shoulder. He patted the boy's head and sent him his way. "Next!"

There was no next. All the children were already zipped and buttoned up, snug in their thin little coats and ready for the cool spring outdoors, where nature was awakening from her hibernation from when white snow carpeted the ground.

"Okay class, two rows please," GaEul called out.

"Yes teacher!"

As the children filed into two neat rows, most of them looking for their best friends and grabbing each other's hands on the way, So YiJeong sidled up next to Chu GaEul at the front of the row.

GaEul slapped his one pack with the back of her hand. YiJeong made a mental note to visit his long abandoned gym equipment. Pottery did not help maintain chocolate abs.

"You, sir, go to the back. Make sure no one wanders," she said.

YiJeong whined, but still went behind wordlessly. He knew she would do that, and he saw the logic, but it didn't hurt to try anyway. No, that slap didn't hurt.

At the back of the two rows was Joongie, partner-less.

"Hey Joongie, where's your friend?"

YiJeong looked at the child, the one five-year-old in the class who had not cried that day. He noticed a band aid placed on his right knee and figured out that the child was the reason why GaEul was not in class earlier.

"Oh, JunNi got the sniffles, so he can't come today," Joongie replied.

"Oh really?" YiJeong replied absent-mindedly, taking the child's Pororo-free hand into his, just as the teacher and her class walked out the door into the sunshine.

As if that mattered at all, considering how the whole class was sniffling earlier this morning anyway, YiJeong thought.

"_And whose fault was that?" _he imagined that tiny little devil in him whose voice was so similar to JunPyo's snipe at him.

YiJeong swatted the air around his head, as though there were mini JunPyo-heads there.

The sun shone down upon the earth, its warmth and light casting upon the lazy young greens, waking them up and readying them for that new chapter in their lives. The air was cool but dry, only made slightly humid by the evaporated dew on young leaves and vapour from fresh rushing streams just as a slight breeze kissed YiJeong's cheeks, so gently and lightly, it felt like butterfly kisses. As the group made its way to the nearby park, the pitter-patter of their soft shoes against concrete mixed with laughter, wonder and simple amazement and appreciation for even the littlest of things brought a welcome peace to YiJeong.

Children were so simple and pure. They laughed so freely and were amazed by everything. How did adults forget how to do that?

As they came to a cross in the road, the children stopped, and waited, until the "red ahjusshi went home and the green ahjusshi came out". Then all those little beings looked left and right then raised their hands and crossed the road, following close behind their teacher. The sight of twenty little kids tottering close behind a grown adult made YiJeong chuckle. It was like looking at a family of little ducks following their Mama, whose mannerisms actually mirrored the young ones. Joongie gave YiJeong's hand a tug and YiJeong walked up, completing the picture.

He finally fully understood her choice of career. For idealist Chu GaEul, there was no better job than to be around children, the creatures of hope, brimming with potential.

They soon reached the park, where sunlight filtered through the thick shade of the towering trees and peppered the shadowed ground beneath them, where the class walked through, following the walkway that meandered through the park.

Every now and then, they would stop, for a child to pick up a fallen leaf or for someone to blow upon a dandelion.

"Mr Teacher," Joongie started and YiJeong smiled. Since having his identity revealed, he had been relegated to "Mr Teacher duty". At least it was better than Ahjusshi.

"Yes, kid?"

"Why is the sky blue?" the curious child asked.

"Ah, that is an excellent question, my boy," YiJeong replied happy to introduce a grand secret of the universe to someone so young. "We have Rayleigh scattering to thank for that. You see, in the atmosphere, that is the air, there are tiny little molecules-"

"What is 'molecules'?"

"They're little things in the air around us."

Joongie looked up and tilted his head, seemingly looking for something.

"I see nothing," Joongie said.

"Molecules are too small to be seen."

Joongie squinted.

"So, you see, light from the sun comes in the form of white light," YiJeong continued.

"Mr Teacher, the sun is yellow," Joongie retorted.

"No, Joongie, the sun only appears yellow. If you go to space, it'll look white. Right, so white light comes down on earth and the surrounding molecules absorb the sunlight-"

"What is 'absorb'?"

"It's to take in, like eating."

"Why do the molecules eat the sunlight?"

"No, kid, molecules don't 'eat' sunlight. They just take it in. Right, then after they absorb the sun light, they radiate it out, scattering the same amount of energy that they took in."

"What is radiate?"

"It is to let out, like, give away."

Joongie frowned. "So after eating the sunlight these molecules spit it out? Omma says we shouldn't do that."

YiJeong sighed.

"Molecules are not humans like us, kiddo," he explained patiently. "Anyway, most of the energy that is radiated, when we see it, looks like blue. Since the molecules are above us, and the sky is also above us, the sky looks blue to us."

"I thought you said that sunlight was white!" Joongie exclaimed.

"White light consists of seven colours, Joongie, the same colours that you see in a rainbow."

Joongie stared at YiJeong suspiciously.

"Mr Teacher, you aren't making a lot of sense."

YiJeong sighed again.

"Ok, kid, the sky is blue because of the light reflected off the oceans."

Joongie looked even more suspicious.

"Mr Teacher, our sea looks green to me. I've been to DongHae (east sea) before. If the sky has its colour because of the sea, then it must look green, not blue."

YiJeong sighed yet again. He was doing a lot of sighing today, while his Mrs So was right in front, laughing with the other children and ignorant about his little ward's frustrating problem.

"Fine, kid, you know North, South, East and West?" YiJeong said, settling for a myth.

"Uh huh."

"Right, these four are giants, but you can't see them because they are invisible, like when Harry Potter puts on the invisible cloak."

"Who's Harry Potter?"

"Someone you don't need to know. Anyway, these four giants stand up there, every day, and hold up a blue blanket above us, all the time, therefore, the sky looks blue to us." YiJeong rattled off, bald-faced.

Joongie still looked suspicious, but behind those eyes, there was a tinge of acceptance, as though he found the last story to be plausible.

YiJeong turned his head and rolled his eyes but didn't say anything more.

They hung back a bit, away from the rest of the class. Again, like before, they walked on, in silence, both appreciating nature in the city at its very best. Until Joongie saw a bird perched on the wires hanging above.

"Mr Teacher, how is it that the bird can stand on the wires? Every time I watch Tom and Jerry, if Tom touches the wires, then he would be ZAP!" Joongie brought his hands together in one loud clap to emphasise that last word.

"Let's see," YiJeong mumbled, thinking of a less abstract and simpler way to answer the question. It didn't matter if it wasn't true. However, centuries of civilization in the Korean peninsula did not even produce one bird-on-wire related myth, even if, granted, electricity only came in the last few decades. So he chose the easy way out.

"You know, that is a very good question, and I don't' know, so how about you go home and find it out with your mother?" YiJeong replied.

Joongie raised an eyebrow at the grown man. Then he asked about where babies came from, why somebody had a fat mole with hairs sticking out of it on his face in hearing range of said person and why a certain provocatively dressed person was looking at him so funnily.

In just a span of half an hour, So YiJeong had gone from satisfied peace and having a respectful wonder for children to pure mortification and embarrassment. Also, he had developed a dry throat. So YiJeong was, for a time during the child's yapping, frustrated, but more than that, he was incredibly amused, amused at how children had no filter, and how they questioned everything, especially those that adults took for granted. They saw everything and even after, would see it all differently from adults.

Children would say everything straightforwardly and hide nothing. They knew nothing of hypocrisy and so if a child said that he liked something, then it meant that he really liked it. Although, while the lack of hypocrisy was nice, they also had no tact, something which Joongie was apparently determined to show So YiJeong.

"Okay, class, we're going to stop here for a while. You can play at the playground but don't go too far!" GaEul addressed her class.

"Yes, teacher!" the children chirped, including the very curious Joongie, and all ran off towards the playground, laughing and screaming.

GaEul rested her feet at the bench nearby, and soon, YiJeong plopped himself right next to her.

Resting his head on her shoulder, he groaned.

"Urgh," he let out a deep breath. GaEul lovingly interlocked her fingers with his. "How do you manage all those questions?"

"What questions?" GaEul asked.

"The questions those kids ask. I've only been asked five questions by one kid and I'm dead beat already," YiJeong answered, his voice barely a whisper.

GaEul laughed and he revelled in that tinkling little sound of happiness.

"Well, YiJeong ah, you tell them the truth, sometimes, not all of it, I know what kind of age inappropriate things they can ask, but just explain enough to make them understand," GaEul replied, smiling.

"The kid doesn't even believe in the truth!" YiJeong protested indignantly.

"That's why you need to be more patient. They're kids! And you need to make the explanation simpler. At least it's better than feeding them lies."

YiJeong drew circles on GaEul's palm with is thumb, while his eyes focused straight on the children climbing, running and sliding down slides in the playground right before him. He had just reminded himself not to tell GaEul anything, well, only one thing, actually, that she didn't need to know.

"Man, you must be a walking encyclopaedia to answer all their questions," YiJeong muttered.

"Shut up," GaEul laughed and slapped his thigh lightly. "If you don't know the answer, just tell them that you'll find it out with them when you reach the kindergarten. Then you must really follow through, because children are actually quite perceptive. If you don't, they'll lose trust in your words. Or if they really asked some NC-19 stuff, just tell that it's the secret of adults and that they'll know in due time. Heh, they really can be a handful."

YiJeong looked at GaEul. In her, he saw the experienced kindergarten teacher, who seemed to be resting right now, but also at the same time, aware of everything, like where each and every child in the playground was exactly at, and aware of each and every stranger that passed by. Her eyes made sure that no child was wandering off, and that no stranger was kidnapping anyone.

Then Joongie came to the kerb right in front of them, along with his friend CheonNi, and both were doing some sort of weird spasm with their legs, knees locked.

"What are you two doing," YiJeong asked first.

"We're wondering how the pigeon hopped onto the kerb without knees," Joongie replied while CheonNi pointed at the pigeon running away behind the couple.

"Oh, I don't know. It's best to ask your mothers," YiJeong replied automatically.

GaEul gave him a look that YiJeong avoided.

"Hon, pigeons just look like they don't have "knees", but they have and they have very powerful legs. You know when you eat chicken drumstick, there's a lot of meat at the top of the bone, right?" GaEul answered.

The two boys nodded their heads enthusiastically.

"Actually, at the bottom, there is supposed to be another bone, which leads to the chicken's feet. So you see, the pigeon actually has two parts to his leg, like you, and it has "knees", like you. They just face a different direction from yours and you can't see them because they're hidden by their fluffy feathers. The meat in your drumstick gives them energy to jump high."

YiJeong looked at the two children whose eyes were glazed over in awe and his wife, who had long left her seat and was crouching before then, pointing to their thighs and shins. Then she proceeded to bounce on her feet.

"And you still can hop without your knees, see," GaEul explained.

He looked a little to the left and a little to the right. Before So YiJeong was a sight. Two children and their teacher were bouncing on their toes, and some children were moving away from the playground and bouncing on their toes too.

Soon, an entire group was bouncing on their feet before So YiJeong.

"I can bounce higher!" a girl announced.

"Not higher than me!" another boy replied and stuck his tongue out at her.

They bounced for just a short period of time before GaEul stopped.

"Okay, kids, don't hop like that too much. It's bad for your knees. When you grow older next time, you're going to get painful knees like your halmoni." GaEul said. "And it's about time we go for lunch!"

The children cheered whole GaEul hollered for the rest of her class still running around at the playground.

"Okay, do we have everyone here?" GaEul asked the class, while counting the number of children in the two rows before her. So YiJeong was relegated to back-row duty again.

"Yes, teacher!"

"Teacher I'm hungry," a child grumbled.

"We're going to eat now, WooYoung ah."

Without much ado, they all set off for class, tummies rumbling, eager for lunch. As they walked, they sang, nursery rhymes that YiJeong thought that he had forgotten.

A short walk through the same route later, the class and its two care-givers returned to the warm homey classroom again. Along the way, they met another class, and the children all greeted each other with cheers as the two teachers chatted for a while, the other class' teacher glancing at YiJeong once then snickering when GaEul told her something. YiJeong just gave a slight nod as they greeted with "Annyeong Haseyo".

As GaEul went to prepare the food, Yijeong "helped" the class remove their coats and get their food trays from their bags by promoting independence.

Before a few tubs of rice and side dishes, including one that held peeled oranges cut into halves, YiJeong scooped a little of each for each child as they held out their trays before him, all in a perfect single line. The first few scoops, he got reprimanded by GaEul. It was either "What do you think they are? Pigs? So YiJeong, that's too much!" or "They're not mice either!" There was no pleasing this woman. After a while though, he got the hang of it and lunch went rather uneventfully.

While the children ate, YiJeong wolfed down his simple lunch in the staff room nearby, then went back out into the classroom to the children. GaEul went to eat as YiJeong accompanied the children. He wondered how she had her lunches when he wasn't around to look after the children, not knowing that she would usually have her lunch in the classroom WITH the children.

YiJeong looked at the children eating their food heartily. Some ate faster than the others, and some picked vegetables off their plates (with whom YiJeong then got into a mini-quarrel, with the exception of those who left the parsleys out, since he couldn't stand those either). He had a sense of fulfilment and was pleased immensely for whatever reason he couldn't fathom when he saw them raise their bowls to lick them clean. He delighted in their enjoyment of lunch and something tugged at his heart when he heard their satisfied "ahh".

When GaEul came back, many had already finished their lunches, with the exception of just one little girl. YiJeong sat beside her, doing nothing, just accompanying her. The moment she finished, GaEul brought them all to brush their teeth, and So YiJeong tagged along, just to promote independence.

The next activity for them was napping and the children all got their small mattresses, lay them side by side and the lights were dimmed and curtains drawn. Soft music wafted through the quiet room. After the flurry of excitement in the morning, the children were ready to rest, ready to charge up for the next half of the day and to enter the fantastic land of dreams.

"Sleep tight," GaEul whispered as turned the lights off completely and tiptoed towards YiJeong who was waiting by the doorway.

Just before she close the door completely shut though, some small little being called out for teacher.

YiJeong poked his head into the room, and saw that the trouble-maker was Joongie.

"You! Go to sleep!" he hissed.

"Teacher, I don't feel like sleeping," Joongie replied, his voice cutting through the silence like a thunderous missile.

GaEul made to move to the offending child but YiJeong pushed her away, saying that he "got this".

"Teacher…"

"Hey you, go to sleep."

Putting a finger to the child's forehead, YiJeong pushed him down to sleep. Joongie promptly got up and this time, he was not just sitting but standing, in the middle of an entire class of sleeping children.

GaEul pouted at him, then closed the door.

"Teacher…" Joongie whined.

"Hey kid, your Pororo is waiting for you to come down and sleep," YiJeong told the kid but he made no move to lie back on his bed.

YiJeong had to tug his arm and pull him back down. Putting the toy between the child's arms, YiJeong patted him on the hip, resigned to the fact that he had to sacrifice GaEul-time to put this little handful to sleep.

As he lay there, cramped into that small space behind the child, a blanket of peace as wide as the room drifted down from the heavens and covered the children and one adult, keeping them snug and comfortable in its layers. Yijeong lay on his side, hearing the children's soft rhythmic breath rumble through the silence, only for that silence to be cut again by the one un-cooperating child.

"You know Mr Teacher, you might talk a lot of rubbish, but you're not too bad," Joongie whispered.

"Yeah, kid, go to sleep. You'll regret all the lost sleeping time when the lights come back up."

-

Closing the door behind him, So YiJeong checked his mail and found that one of his staff was looking urgently for him.

He took long strides to the staff office, where GaEul was certain to be, to see her before he left.

"Hey," GaEul looked up from her papers when he came in. Behind her was the principal's office, where the principal was peeking from the blinds at the new guest. YiJeong gave her a wink and GaEul rolled her eyes. The principal smirked back, her new So YiJeong piece sitting proudly on a side table by the window, basking in the warm afternoon light.

"Hey, GaEul, I gotta go," YiJeong said while pulling her out of the room into the empty hallway. "The museum needs me. Apparently Hyuk just misplaced one of my pieces. Ugh, that boy, I swear, all he does is bury his head in his history books, and trying to mould a foetus shaped piece to put in a jar. I don't even know why he's working for me."

"Ok," GaEul answered simply and gave him a hug.

"See you later. Or if I find the piece earlier, I can even come pick you up."

"Sure thing, Mr Teacher. Great job today, Appa," GaEul replied and pecked him on the lips before pulling from his embrace and returning to the staff room.

"See ya," YiJeong replied just as the door closed and turned to walk off, ready to tear a new one into this person called Hyuk.

Then he turned right back, fast as lightning.

**WHY DID CHU GAEUL JUST CALL HIM APPA?!**


End file.
